We Joy Sing*

Circle of children.
Mothers,
clapping to the beat
of a rhyme,
and a song,
flitting from throat to throat,
immaculate sound.

I open my wings,
slowly,
in the garden of innocence.
Return,
from the sleep of river
countries,
foreign and strange.
I rejoin my people.
The souls of the mothers.
Open trees
growing in the sky.
Open flowers
receiving me.

I am joy,
I sing.
I walk on grass
and hold water in my hands.
We are a tribe of light,
a house of color.
I rise dancing and singing
from the earth.
Jubilation of JOY!